


Lost Cause

by TeekiJane



Series: The Boys of Summer [4]
Category: Baby-Sitters Club - Ann M. Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-24 12:46:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeekiJane/pseuds/TeekiJane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tiffany makes amend for an old regret and then takes a good hard look at herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tiffany

_There's too many people you used to know_  
 _They see you coming they see you go_  
 _They know your secrets and you know theirs_  
 _This town is crazy; nobody cares_  
Beck, Lost Cause

My sister came home from college the day before my last final exam for the year. When you go to community college, like I do, there’s no big homecoming and you finishing the year is no big deal. But Shannon goes to NYU and we only really see her for summers. I’m surprised to find I actually miss her when she’s gone, but it’s annoying how my mom and Maria fawn over her when she comes back. Yet I know when I finish exams, my mom’s gonna be like, Good job honey. Go take out the trash like I asked you. 

I was panicking about my algebra final because I just don’t really get numbers. I had been going to all the tutoring sessions they offer for free at the school but I still had a really low C in the class. If I was going to pass, I needed to do decent. And me and tests do not get along. It’s like all the information just flies out of my head when I sit down with a test in front of me. Add to that the fact that I had been ridiculously tired recently and you’ve got a bad combination. 

The morning of my exam—the morning after Shannon came home—I was studying as hard as I knew how, going over notes and checking formulas. Shannon came to stand in my doorway. She watched me for a while, a newspaper in her hand, before I noticed her. “Hey Tiffany! Haven’t seen you since I got home. How’s it going?” 

I shrugged. “Exams,” I said listlessly. I was wishing she would just leave me alone, partly because I needed to study and partly because she was trying to bond with me in an annoying big sister way. 

“Oh.” Shannon looked pained, like she was trying hard and not succeeding. I watched her for a while, waiting to see if she was finished. I don’t understand why, but she didn’t start talking again until I went back to my textbook. “Did you see the paper today?” she asked, holding out the newspaper she’d been holding. 

I put my pencil down and gave her a long, blank stare. Shannon recoiled a little bit, but acted like I wasn’t behaving like a crazy bitch. “No,” I finally replied, “I have not had time to read the paper today.” Like I read the paper even on days when I’m not busy. 

Shannon sat on the side of my desk and opened the paper, pretending I was being a pleasant human being. She flipped a while and then looked over a page. “Didn’t you date one of the Pike boys?” she asked, almost idly. 

I looked out the window. Why was she asking this? “Yeah.” 

My sister waited for elaboration that I had no intention of giving. “Which one?” she asked. She was starting to get pissed; I could tell by her tone and how rigid her back was. 

“Adam.” 

Shannon smiled even though I was still on her nerves. “That’s right. This family has a history of Adams.” 

I rolled my eyes internally. Shannon dated a guy named Adam for a while about a million years ago, and now she has another Adam. They’ve been together for about two years, and they are totally nauseating together. He is one of those rich guys like the ones I went to high school with, the ones who are so smarmy and fake you really don’t know anything about them after four years of high school with them. There’s a reason I mostly dated public school boys. 

Adam Pike and I dated when I was a sophomore and he was a freshman. I’d actually really liked him, but I was pretty stupid back then. I had told my friends he was a junior, and even though he was short, he had a way of handling himself that made him seem older. What’s the word? Poise? He was funny too, and my friends all liked him…until they realized he was younger and his family had no money. I gave in to my friends and dumped him. He’d been pretty hurt. It’s one of the things in my life I regret most. 

It suddenly occurred to me that I wasn’t going to be able to finish my much-needed studying until I got her to leave. “Why did you bring the Pikes up?” Shannon used to sorta be friends with Adam’s older sister, who is my age, but I don’t think they’d seen each other since Shannon started high school. 

“Oh,” she said, as if she’d forgotten we were even talking about it, “there’s an article in the paper today about one of the Pike triplets and I wasn’t sure which one was which.” There was a time, back in the day, when the Pike boys all pretty much looked the same. They had the same hair and the same style of clothes, so it was pretty easy to confuse them. By the time I was dating Adam, he and his brothers all had different hair styles and different ways of dressing. I hadn’t seen the Pikes in several years, but I bet I still could have known which triplet I was looking at after just a glance. 

“Let me see,” I said, gesturing for the article. Shannon folded the page over and handed it to me. A quick look at the photo showed two guys. One was tall and blonde and I didn’t recognize him. The other boy was clearly a Pike. He was dancing with the first boy and appeared ill at ease with having his photo taken. He wore his hair far too long and it hung into his eyes. He was slouchy and hunched over a little bit. All in all, he looked like someone who was unhappy in his own skin. “That’s Byron,” I said, checking the caption to prove I was right. 

“Yes,” Shannon said. She was more relaxed now that I was cooperating with her. “Did you read the story?” 

I looked up at her. “You know I don’t read that fast.” 

“Okay, then, did you read the headline?” 

I sighed and skimmed the headline. Gay Teens Make Splash at SHS Prom. “Yeah, so?” 

“I was just wondering if he was the one you dated.” I could read what she _really_ meant: she wanted it to be Adam so she could lord it over my head that I dated a gay guy. “They quoted Adam in the story, too. You should read it.” 

I scoffed inside. “I’ll read it after my exam.” 

Shannon popped off the desk. “Dad called. He wants to take us out to dinner tonight.” 

Well. That was surprising. My mom kicked Dad out a couple years ago when she found out he was cheating on her. They never divorced, though. He has an apartment in the city and even though Shannon lives in the same town he does, she only sees him once a month or so. And I think Maria and me have seen him three times since he moved out. I wrinkled my nose. “Can’t. I have to study.” 

Shannon eyed me critically. “It’s dinner, Tiff. Isn’t your exam this afternoon?” 

“Then I just don’t want to go.” 

Shannon rolled her eyes. “Then you get to explain that to him. I’m not doing your dirty work for you.” She looked over at my notes. “Algebra? I do pretty well at math. Do you want me to help you study?” 

I shook my head. Even though I could have really used the help, I didn’t want to give Shannon one more thing to lord over my head. 

“Suit yourself. Let me know if you change your mind.” 

And then she was gone.


	2. Adam

The phone rang about eight thirty Tuesday night. When both Margo and Claire are home, they fight over who gets to answer the phone. Makes it pointless for any of the rest of us to even reach for it. Plus, I wasn’t expecting any phone calls and I was about a week behind in chemistry. So I was pretty surprised when Claire called, “Aaaaaaa-dammmmmmm! It’s for yoooooooooooou!”

Jordan and I were both sitting at our desks. He was writing his literary analysis paper for English and it was due the next morning. The look on his face said, “This is worth twenty percent of my grade; talk on the phone in here and die.” 

I greeted Claire outside the bedroom door. “Who is it?” 

She grinned one of those annoying baby sister grins, the one where she knows she’s about to piss you off and she’s taking pleasure in it. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask. But….” She held the phone over her head, trying to keep it out of my reach. That does not work when she’s just under five feet tall and I’m nearly five seven. “It’s a guuuuuuuuuuu-ruuuuuuul!” 

I snatched the phone away from Claire. “Are you twelve or are you five?” I asked. She just giggled and ran off. “Hello,” I said into the phone. “I apologize for my insane sister. Someone dropped her on her head as a baby.” 

“And it was probably you, so you should just admit it.” 

I recognized the voice but couldn’t place it. “Uh, hi?” I said unhelpfully. 

She realized what was going on. “It’s Tiffany Kilbourne. I saw you were quoted in the newspaper and wanted to see how you were doing.” 

Ahh, Tiffany. She was my first real girlfriend. I dated a lot of girls in middle school—the kind of relationship where you tell everyone you’re dating but you maybe go to the movies once. You hang out with each other at lunch for a couple weeks and then you’re done. 

But my relationship with Tiffany was different. We went out for about five months and I really liked her. She was one of those private school rich kids but she didn’t act like that. Her clothes were always nice but she never wore crazy labels or trendy clothes. She didn’t look down her nose at me and my friends, and she was nice to my brothers and sisters. I never did quite understand why we broke up. One day she was all into me; the next she said that she thought we should see other people and that was it. 

“Tiffany! It’s been a long time. How is it going?” And it had been a long time. I hadn’t seen her since we broke up, and that was more than three years ago. The cynical part of me wondered exactly why she was calling. 

I didn’t wonder long. She drew in a long breath. “I actually called because I wanted to apologize.” 

Really? “Uh, Tiffany…that’s okay. It was a lifetime ago.” 

“No, no. I have to get this out.” She sounded a little frantic. I’d never heard her like this before; usually, she was laid-back to the point where you’d occasionally wonder if she was even conscious. “There are a lot of things in my life that I really regret, but treating you that way is the worst of them.” 

Okay. Now she had me scratching my head. “Okay,” I replied, just to say something. 

“I wanted you to know, I really did like you. I was such an idiot back then. I never should have listened to my friends.” I could picture her the way she was three years before, wearing a pair of artfully ripped jeans and a top that was tight enough that you could see her figure but not so tight that she looked like she was trying too hard. She used to wear her hair long and loose, with thick blonde bangs hanging in her eyes and just a little too much eye makeup. I could see her with her knees pulled up to her chest, sitting on her bed, her bare feet sticking out in front of her, her toenails painted a sickening green. Wow. 

Tiffany continued. “I was just such a joiner back then. Peer pressure and all that, you know?” She chuckled but it didn’t sound like she had back in the day. Even though she was crazed, her voice also had a lethargic quality, like she was half asleep. “I really, really liked you and I shouldn’t have listened to my friends when they said they didn’t think we should see each other…”

She’d lost me a while back, and she was starting to completely ramble. “It’s okay, Tiff,” I repeated. “Seriously. I’m not mad any more. You are completely and totally forgiven.” 

I guess this was not the right thing to say. “Any more?!” she cried. “You’re not mad any more? So you _were_ mad when it first happened.” She made a noise that I couldn’t really identify, something between a cry and a hiccup. 

Oh, no. “No, not mad,” I said. Damage control time! “I was a little confused and that’s about it. You didn’t do anything that most other fifteen year olds wouldn’t have done. No worries.” 

Tiffany sniffled and I realized that she had been crying. “You’re really sure?” 

“Yes, I’m completely certain.” I sat down in the hallway, outside my bedroom door. “Listen, Tiff, is everything okay?” 

She sobbed for a second and I sat there, wide eyed, wondering what to do next. Before I decided, she had pulled herself together. “No,” she said sadly. “Everything is pretty fucked up. But it’s nothing new, ya know?” She paused a moment and then continued. “I’m just so glad that you aren’t upset. It’s one more worry off my list.” 

I had been on the phone with her for a very short time and I was already concerned about her. “Did you want to get together some time?” I asked, “For old time’s sake, of course.” 

She laughed an uneasy laugh. “Sure. I could really use a sounding board, and it’d be great to see you again.” Tiffany took a deep breath and before I could make some vague reply about calling her sometime soon, she plunged ahead. “Are you free Thursday night? We could go for coffee.”

Oh, shit. It’s not that I hadn’t really meant it about getting together with her, but if she was as big a mess as she seemed, then I wasn’t sure I wanted to go hang out with her. But I just knew that if I told her I was busy that night, she’d either retort with another night or go back to thinking that our break up had made a basket case out of me. Plus, coffee? That could be a twenty minute get together or several hours, depending on how things went. I could always escape as soon as my cup was empty. “Sure. That sounds great. About seven okay with you?” 

“That’s perfect. I’m glad we talked, Adam. See you on Thursday.” 

“Bye, Tiff. Have a good night.” 

I put the phone back on its charger in the hallway and went back to my chemistry book. Jordan looked out from behind a wall of books and notes. He was obviously ready for a break. “So who was it?” 

“You’ll never guess.” 

Jordan pretended to look pensive. “Madonna?” he suggested. I crumpled up a piece of paper and threw it at him. He’s been a lot more fun to be around since he started dating Haley. 

“No, Shithead. Tiffany Kilbourne.” 

“Tiffany?” Jordan raised an eyebrow. “Where’d you drag her out from?” 

I laughed. “I didn’t drag her from anywhere. She saw that story about Byron in the paper and called.” 

For a moment his face clouded over, and then he shook himself. “So how’s she doing these days?” 

I shrugged, making a face. “I think she’s having some problems right now.” I picked up my chemistry book and looked at the assignment for a moment. “I’m going for coffee with her in a couple days.” 

Jordan wrinkled his nose. “What for? Thinking of picking her back up?” I didn’t reply to that, just adjusted my half-finished assignment so that I could maybe get it completely finished sometime soon. “If she’s as fucked up as you say, that doesn’t seem like a good idea.” 

I shrugged again. “I guess we’ll see after Thursday.”


	3. Tiffany

I hung up the phone after talking with Adam and stretched out across the bed. Shannon and Maria were still out with Dad, but I knew they’d be back soon. I had decided I didn’t want to deal with Dad so I had stayed on campus until I knew he would have come and gone. Mom always leaves when she knows he’ll be coming by, so I’d been alone all evening.

I’d completely and totally bombed my final and I knew it. I figured there was a good shot I’d be taking algebra again next year. Not anything I could do about it now, but it was pretty depressing. I’d come home and eaten a whole carton of Ben and Jerry’s for dinner. I was pretty nauseous now, but I wasn’t sure if that was the ice cream or the test. Maybe a little of both. 

I’d picked up the newspaper when I’d finally come back upstairs and read the article. It didn’t really tell me anything about Adam, other than he loves his brother. That’s something I’d already known. I’d ended up feeling really guilty, though. Adam’s grown up even better than I’d imagined he would have. 

Speaking with Adam had made me feel better. He has seemed almost a little alarmed that I had even called, but he was cool about it. He’d even asked if I was okay and agreed to have coffee with me in a few days. I was hoping we could be friends; I could really use a friend right about now. 

Just about all of my high school friends went away away to college. Pretty much no one stayed in Connecticut. One girl did go to Stoneybrook University, but she joined a sorority and made a bunch of new friends, so we lost touch. I’d met a whole bunch of new people at the community college, but I didn’t really get close to any of them. Most of them worked and went to school and already had friends. I guess I could have gotten involved with some activities, but that’s not really my style. 

I did hook up with one person this year. Eric was in my English class first semester, and he had a whole crew of friends. I had thought that his friends were my friends, but when we broke up, I learned the truth. We’d dated for pretty much the whole school year and we’d only broken up a couple weeks ago. I’d caught him cheating on me with his best friend’s girlfriend. That was a hot mess, let me tell you. I was still recovering from that and I didn’t really even have anyone to talk to about it. 

The wave of nausea I’d been experiencing for the past hour passed and I jumped off my bed and looked in the mirror. I wasn’t wearing any makeup and there were bags under my eyes. My whole face looked a little gray. It was not attractive at all. My hair was messy, and I realized I hadn’t combed it that day. My bangs hung greasy against my forehead. I had a big old zit on the side of my nose. I was wearing a grubby, old tank top without a bra, but my chest is small enough that I can get away with that. The tank top was paired with a faded pair of sweat pants. I would say I wasn’t looking my best, but I didn’t really look any worse than I had for the past week or so. I would have blamed exams, but I think the breakup had had a lot more to do with it than the tests had. 

If I was going to have coffee with Adam, I was going to have to do a serious clean up. He remembered me from my glory days. As sad as it was to admit, I’d reached the peak of my life when I was fifteen. I’d had a whole crew of friends, my grades were decent, and I’d had a great boyfriend. And I’d been sane, which is something I didn’t feel I could say anymore. I wanted him to see me as close to that person as I could possibly get. I might not be able to regain my sanity, but I could regain my looks. 

I needed to get started right away.


End file.
